It is an interesting fact to notice: sex on prom night. I was speaking to someone the other day about prom. They spoke of getting laid. I didn’t know anyone really did get laid on prom. I thought it was a big joke. Honest. I never even got a kiss on prom. So now I [...]
stories for boys
You are currently viewing the monthly archives for January 2009
Monthly Archives January 2009
. . .
The size of my body sometimes surprises me. I am in the shower and I look down. And there my feet are, so far from my eyes. I can stretch out my arms and they go on for what seems like forever. I curl my fingers and watch my fingers move. They are almost three [...]
. . .
An old woman walks past while I am on the balcony of the hotel. It’s impossible to determine her age. I think of Crime and Punishment. The radio sings on about “fire from a hand” which really does very little to make me stop thinking about killing her. She moves very slowly. Each step is [...]
. . .
What is my problem? It’s not that I want to be unhappy. I don’t try to make myself unhappy. You think I sit around and plan it? No. The answer, the correct answer, to that question would be no. Yet nothing seems to go right.
. . .
The smell of sulfur, of someone lighting a match, makes its way into my lungs as I sit on a sofa, having failed to keep up with Amy. I convince myself it’s for the better, listening to mediocre music and watching people.
“It’s a beautiful night tonight.”
“I told him to go to hell.”
“I bought them down [...]
. . .
The night continues to improve. Maybe.
There have been no more blow job stories. From Amy or anyone else.
A crowded, noisy den as people wander in and out and I find myself wanting to up the ante knowing it won’t be long until I have to leave. Or at least go outside. I won’t have to [...]
. . .
I am not a big breast man, as they are called. I find that whole categorization absurd anyway. And I’m not a man — I’m still a boy at heart.
I always wanted to be Peter Pan. Not that I’d run around the house as a child pretending to fly and having Tinkerbell follow me around. [...]
. . .
Do you think everyone is discontented with their bodies? At least to some extent? Do you think that has come from conditioning — from things like MTV and soap operas — or do you think it is some kind of inherited trait (is that even what it would be called? Miss Bio teacher . [...]
. . .
While sleeping in the chair in the hotel, I dream my teeth are falling out. Much like a dream I had several years before, but in that one I had grown another set of teeth out of my gums. I remember that second set being attributed to some kind of fungal growth — nasty really. [...]
. . .
In my defense, I won’t say I get off brushing up against girls. I much prefer pretending I am picking them up. That they notice me as much as I notice them. Well, that’s close to true. That they are as interested in me as I am in them; a fact I know is not [...]
